Conversations
by Jared
Summary: [CCD] A person's speech patterns are unique, yet conversations are uniform. Why? Are conversations really what they seem?


Conversations  
Jared 

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Disclaimer:  
The following characters belong to CLAMP and are only borrowed for the fanfic. 

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** I laugh without joy,  
Cry without tears,  
Speak without speaking...  
Conversations are meant to make me cry. **

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"Nokoru-sama, would you please..." 

_Just smile and nod, that's all it takes. If you really can't help, just refuse politely. Be gentlemanly_

"Kaichou, these documents..." 

_ Just play a fool, try to evade the work and everything will be normal_

"Kaichou..." 

_ Accept the food and drink happily, and he'll feel happy. Akira's easy enough to please. _

"Nokoru-san, I have heard..." 

_Just answer as respectfully as you can. Don't volunteer information._

Conversations are really interesting things- they all have a rigid structure that all demand a particular answer. Keep that key in mind, and you'll be able to hold conversations with anyone, anywhere. Or will you? 

Sometimes I really wonder, do conversations even mean anything anymore? It seems so... practiced, so polished, so perfect. It no longer is as what I used to believe- an art, unique to the individual who uses it- now, it is merely a performance, an act, used by all in "appropriate" situations, even with it's "correct" response! This, my friend, is the world of conversations where we live in. 

It's strange isn't it? Most would expect me to be cheery and smiley all the time; no one would relate the word 'cynical' with the ever-cheerful Imonoyama Nokoru. Yet no matter how I try to hide my true nature behind all that mask I don, I cannot lie to myself- I've tried, only to experience failure- it is only with myself that I know who I am. 

That, I suppose, is one of the primarily modern functions of conversations- to hide one's true intentions and nature; undoubtedly, much has changed since the older times, when they spoke but little- for in those ancient times, every word that was jealously guarded, unlike those of today, carelessly given. Given a choice, I would turn back time and exist then, in the world of truth and sincerity, the time where people truly speak when they have something to say, not merely to cover up moments of awkward silence. 

Sometimes I really wonder... am I the only one who feels this way? Do the people around me ever think about things the way I do? I can't help but wonder, for I know that asking them outright is nothing short of a taboo- yet another reason to make me hate conversations- it divides rather than unites. 

Picture this, apart from restricting people with the increased vocabulary, distorting the truths for one's selfish gains, conversations now have even degraded to the point of causing divides. Ironically, the same words that people have used to try to mask the truth from others actually rebounds upon them, allowing others to come to realise that for some reason or another, they are being deceived. This causes withdrawal. 

Conversations really are like poison. Unknowingly, quietly, on the sly, they poison someone's mind, capture the trust of an innocent, only to turn that same trusting soul into a raging demon; it poisons, it wounds... Can conversations be trusted at all? Would it be better if we all just locked ourselves in and throw away the key so that we'll never be hurt again? 

Yet conversations are not all that bad. While they do create illusions, they create worlds where the innocent live happily ever after, kind of like in fairy tales; they create indescribable, inexplicable bonds of trust, and establish friendships that one could only yearn for and dream of. 

I suppose I must have lost you. Why, you ask, do you suddenly veer away from seeing the evils of conversations, and instead start speaking of conversations like you treasure them? I smile to myself, for only I know the answer to that one. 

For despite my pessimism, despite my lies, I know of the truth that I yearn to hide- I still dream of conversations with my soul mate, conversations yet to come. 


End file.
